"Give me your arm—I'll help you along."
The private held out his hand, then gave a pitch, and, before the young officer could catch him, sank on the grass insensible.
Captain Moore's heart leaped into his throat, for he had known Peck for years, and the two were very friendly. He listened, and heard a distant shot. Evidently the Indians were not yet coming in that direction. They would first hunt down the others, providing they were not already slain.
Bending down, the young officer took Peck in his strong arms and threw the private over his shoulder. The weight was considerable, and made him stagger.
"I've got to carry him, somehow!" he muttered. "Heaven give me strength to do it!"
The brushwood was thick ahead, but there was a sort of trail, made by wild animals, and he pursued this until he came to a brook. Then to keep the Indians from following them, should they come in that direction, he followed the brook for a hundred yards or more. At last he reached a point where the banks of the brook were rocky, and here he came out, and crawled over the rocks. Not far off was an opening between two large bowlders, and here he sank down, too exhausted to take another step.
